Baghdad's Greeting to the Arab Woman

To the breath of the cedars that perfumed Baghdad.... to lofty Lebanon

Good tidings, O Tigris — the world inclines kindly toward us
Good tidings, O Tigris — overflow, and scatter pearls
This spring is fresh and green in its bowers
And the rose is smiling, radiant in its charm
Why should we not exult, when this Nile engulfs us
A breath of the cedars has come to us and revived us
Barada suffices you, Baghdad, within our lands
And it is enough for us that in Amman there are hearts
What shall I say, when my wound has not yet closed
The memory of the catastrophes has not left our present
For Arabism has kinships that draw us together
And Arabism has pains that make us one
O daughter of Ya'rub — and history knows us —
Our homelands have been cheated in their pursuit of right
And fate opposed us with injustice and struck us lame
What did we gain but a patience that brought us down
Fate presented us with thorns that tear us
Poverty, ignorance, and disease have banded together
Woe to us from gilded snares
Since good fortune became wedded to our valleys
You quench the thirst unstintingly and give us drink
And the doves in its shade sing to us of longing
And the full moon, bright with light, guides us
An outpouring of love that our hopes implore
So time came forward and our nights grew white
It arrived to strengthen our brotherhood in affection
That draw near to us and greet us in sincerity
I weep and I rejoice whenever I meet Palestine
The memory will not be folded away until death folds us
And Arabism has hopes that will bring us back to life
And an anguish in the depths of the soul that sears us
Why should we not be as we were in our past
And he who lives cheated will never win his desire
What shall we fend off — the wolves, or the serpents?
And despair has fed us our fill of abasement and weakness
And to the oppressors, sweet basil and eglantine
The Arabs offer up sacrifices to the tyrant
That lay a numbing drug and a sedative upon the wound

*

The morning has broken, O my sister, waking us
Our noble homelands summon us with resolve
Enough that we have slept away the age in sloth
O daughter of Ya'rub, our eyes are still
The daughter of Iraq greets you in hope
All hearts greet you, calling out

Baghdad — Queen Aliya College

Come, let us scatter our darkness with truthfulness
When shall we see word joined to deed?
We have had our fill of embellished fine words
Gazing toward you, to tell of our devotion
For the Arabs, the goal toward which our endeavors draw near
Long live Arabism, watched over by our true accord